As you may have noticed from the list of other books I've read, I am a Carl Sagan fan. I was deeply moved when he passed away in 1996. I had heard that several biographies had come out a few years later, and felt some trepidation about reading the whole tale of his life. Could I trust a biographer to capture the right essence of the person? And if they did... Would I still like Sagan?
I settled on William Poundstone's "Carl Sagan: A Life in the Cosmos," and I wasn't disappointed. Poundstone gives a balanced perspective of the multifaceted Sagan-- as scientist, popularizer, husband, activist, and (like everyone) plain-old flawed human.
For the most part, the book is a straightforward chronology of Sagan's life, emphasizing whatever was important to him at each stage of his life. Thus, the reader hears about his scientific experiments during his 20's, even though this was also when his first children were being born. Later, the story becomes more personal as Sagan focuses on friends and family in his 40's and 50's, even though he was also engaged in some research at this point.
Sagan was no saint. It took three tries to marry a woman with whom he shared mutual respect, and he never quite connected with at least one of his five children. He could be bullheaded, self-centered, and generally an asshole, which was supposed to be excused because he was unarguably brilliant. Our society lets such males behave that way with few consequences (and indeed, we heap praise on them and marry them).
The Sagan I remember was the charming one who knew how to pose for the camera, and the passionate one who loved nothing more than science. I watched "Cosmos" avidly as a 5th (or was it 6th) grader. Later, I read his popular science books, such as "Broca's Brain" and "The Dragons of Eden" (and so on, all the way through "The Demon-Haunted World"). Sagan had a rare gift for communicating science to nonscientists and budding scientists. His explanations were always comprehensible and made you feel smart, not dumb as is the case with many scientists (who talk down to their audience). But best of all, the science was correct-- Sagan never cut corners, simplifying the concepts to the point where they weren't quite right, but were "close enough" for a nonscientist. There was no "close enough" for Sagan-- it had to be right.
Sagan was intellectually brave. His whole career was spent straddling fields and otherwise pursuing non-standard directions in science. He was a planetary astronomer, but also a geologist, biologist, chemist, and radio astronomer in search of extraterrestrial life. He also committed the unpardonable sin of enjoying popularization and being in the media spotlight. Very few scientists are like this. Sagan paid the price for his radical career direction-- he was denied tenure at Harvard and membership in the National Academy of Sciences. He was badmouthed by many colleagues and lost a few friends.
But he also created opportunities for himself that most scientists never get (or want, to be fair). He went to the Soviet Union many times during the height of the Cold War, befriending some Soviet scientists and exerting some genuine influence on the Soviet space program. These connections ultimately resulted in exerting some influence on the Soviet nuclear missile program, when Sagan became a peace activist during the late 1970s and 1980s. Sagan mixed with writers, TV directors, artists, and politicians, making him much more urbane than the average astronomy professor or NASA scientist.
And through the opportunities he created for himself, opportunities for others were created. Countless children and teenagers cite Carl Sagan as an important factor in their decision to study science. It is hard to think of a scientist who had greater popular influence during his or her career.
I can't excuse Sagan's personal flaws. He was a chauvenist long after he should have known better, and he didn't always adhere personally to the standards he imposed externally (for example, much of his career centered around the search for extraterrestrial life, which is arguably an unfalsifiable experiment. And he never quite learned to see that his own perspective was more limited than he gave it credit for). But neither can I deny the influence he had on me and on many of the people of my generation. It's a very real part of my past.
I'm sorry he's gone. Or more precisely, I'm sorry no one has stepped up to the plate to take his place. Where is the next great popularizer, helping people to feel smart about all the new changes going on in the fields of science? We could use someone to help us navigate the politics of molecular genetics, from GM foods to animal cloning. Or the new science of nanotechnology, or the incredible advances of drug design.
As we began to explore space-- which caused psychological shifts and some spiritual trepidation-- people had Sagan to tell them how wondrous these experiments were, how beneficial they could be, and how exciting and truly human the whole adventure was. Where is that person now that we are probing the depths of the genome, creating mechanical pets that can talk and learn from their surroundings, and experiencing environmental changes of magnitudes greater than anyone can recall? If we are to confront and address these issues democratically, we need far greater communication between science and nonscientists.
But I digress. Sagan was a fascinating and infuriating character who left an indelible mark on the world. Read Poundstone's biography to learn more about him.
Oh yes, and one personal note. I was lucky enough to meet Sagan once. Not just a handshake after one of his speeches; I sat in his office at Cornell and got about 10 minutes of his undivided attention. I was a trembling 17-year-old, but he didn't care. He was willing to talk with me simply because he liked to make contact with young, eager scientists even after he had attained fame and fortune. I was blown away.
Copyright © Kim Allen 2001
